Respite
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: Oh, I think you can keep her. There are plenty of others to go around so take this one with my compliments, my friend. Enjoy her. You've earned it." Blue eyes, the same shade as the forget-me-nots that bloomed by the porch in her former life, burned into her.
1. Chapter 1

She was shaking like a leaf the first time they came for her. These men, with their blank faces and hollow eyes, reminded her too much of her dead and unmourned husband. These two weren't the ones that killed the men of her group, including Ed. Those monsters laughed as they filled the air with bullets, uncaring who they slaughtered and deaf to the cries for mercy. These two were quiet and gentle as they lifted her to her feet and led her and another toward the door and out into a misty early morning.

Carol shied back as the pale light stabbed at her eyes like dull needles. It had been days since she'd been locked in that cellar. The air was dank and thick; the only light what filtered in around the rough boards of the door. She squeezed them shut and kept them that way, letting the feather light touches on her arms guide her steps. She winced as Lily's muffled sobs climbed the scale to throat rending moans. The woman hadn't quit crying since they'd been taken. Carol did what she could to offer comfort but the woman was inconsolable. Her Meghan had been lost in the battle. The girl was only nine years old but that meant little to the bullet that took her life.

Carol offered up a silent prayer for both mother and daughter. She'd always wanted a child but Ed didn't. He was unfailing in his assurance that she would be as bad of a mother as she was a wife. He used his fists as much as his words to drive the point home. It was better, she decided long ago, that she'd never gotten pregnant. No child could grow up happily around Ed Peletier.

They were led into a large room and made to stand in a cleared space before a stage of sorts. The only seat was a broad, carved wooden chair sitting front and center. The back, etched with whorls and intricately incised squares, rose to a peak. The seat was blood-red, buttery soft and pliable, and looked to be made of worked leather. Her fingers twitched in an errant wish to run her fingers over the chair, test the grain of the wood, see if the leather was as soft as the dull sheen promised. Carol clenched her fists at her side and bit down on the inside of her cheek until her mouth filled with coppery warmth._ Stop it,_ she berated herself fiercely,_ or your foolishness is going to get you killed._

She saw a lanky, dark-haired man mount the dais confidently and make his way to the throne like seat. He watched the two women with vague interest, his pale eyes missing nothing as he looked them over. "Welcome to Respite," he drawled in slow, languid tones. "I'm Phillip Blake, the leader of this settlement. I wanted to meet you and familiarize you with our rules so that there's no misunderstanding."

He rose to his feet and strolled toward them like he had all the time in the world. Lily received a dismissive glance, the man's thin lips tightening as she hunched her shoulders and started crying again in earnest. He paused in front of Carol, eyes narrowing at her steady look. One hand lifted to touch her cheek and she forced herself not to flinch. A low laugh escaped him and he never took his eyes away from hers as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall open. Only when the last one let go did he look down at the acres of creamy flesh now on view. "Everybody has a job to do here that depends largely on what they have to offer," he announced as he unhooked her bra and coldly contemplated her breasts. "For this place to work, it is necessary for that rule to be obeyed implicitly. Do you understand?"

Carol's mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert but she forced the words out. "I understand."

Phillip Blake's lips quirked into a humorless smile. "Do you? Do you really? I could put you anywhere. What, do you think, would be the best place for you, blue eyes?"

"I don't know," Carol offered hesitantly. "The kitchens or maybe the laundry. I took courses to try to be a nurse. I could help with that."

Again, he gave her that pitiless smile. "I could help with that," he repeated softly. "You're a little mouse, a brave one, but a mouse nevertheless. I believe we can come up with something better than kitchen or laundry duty. Something special just for you." His eyes wandered over her shoulder and he gestured imperiously. "Dixon, come up here."

Carol bit back the urge to vomit as the heavy tread of booted feet came to a stop behind her. She didn't dare look around; instead she kept her eyes fixed firmly on Blake's smug expression. "You need somethin?" A rough voice demanded in a furious tone. "I was going out on a hunt before it gets too late."

Blake's face didn't alter. He waved the man's ire aside as if it were nothing. "That can wait. I need you here for the planning session for our next run. I also wanted to commend you for your actions during the last one. Merle tells me that you're responsible for the success at Kenneshac Memorial. Those medical supplies alone are worth their weight in gold. It warrants some considerations for you." Blake made another of those lofty gestures and was handed a gleaming crossbow complete with a full quiver of bolts and a Buck knife in a worked leather sheath. At last, Blake turned to Carol, his smirk widening to a grin. "For a job well done."

The as yet unseen man sounded like he was choking from the noises that suddenly erupted from behind her. He swallowed a few times, cleared his throat and then began again. "Mine to keep or mine for the night?" Carol caught a glimpse of bare arms, shaggy hair and a lean physique as the man called Dixon stepped forward to take the weapons. A shaft of fear arced through her when she realized he was really asking. Her startled look swung back to Phillip Blake, who now openly wore his amusement.

"Oh, I think you can keep her. There are plenty of others to go around so take this one with my compliments, my friend. Enjoy her. You've earned it."

The sob built, gathered steam and threatened to tear her throat assunder but Carol forced it back. She wouldn't cry now. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. Later but not now. Blue eyes, the same shade as the forget-me-nots that bloomed by the porch in her former life, burned into her. He shouldered the crossbow and tucked the knife into his belt before rough fingers ever so gently cupped her elbow. "Let's go," he grumbled curtly. He gave one brief nod to Blake before leading her away. Only when they were outside did he look at her again and then he swore foully under his breath. "Fuck, cover up before you start a damned riot. I don't wanna have to fight because one of these fuckers thinks you're open for business."

Her fingers fumbled with her bra and buttons as she hastily did up her shirt. "Thank you," she whispered brokenly, her limbs threatening to dump her into the dirt at his feet as the true extent of her situation became clear. She was his. Handed over like some sort of bauble for a job well done. His…and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. He swore again and then took off at a fast walk toward the barracks.

"Where are we going?" Carol had to hurry to catch up, only to rock back on her heels as he came to an abrupt halt and swung around to look at her.

"Taking you back for now," he grated. "Back to where you was before. I gotta go hunt or there won't be any fresh meat for dinner. That asshole can say good job but one slip and he'll take it all back. I ain't in the mood to have my ass kicked or to see you staked out for anybody that wanders by to take a turn. He'll do it just because he can if I fuck up. God dammit! Should have lit out and never come back like I wanted to but I listened to Merle. Can't change it now. Done is done."

Carol froze, her eyes wide and staring as his words sank in. "You're going to leave me here? What if he changes his mind before you come back?" She blanched at the thought, nausea slamming into her like a clenched fist. She clamped her hand over her mouth and bent double, gagging helplessly.

The man made no attempt to help, watching impatiently until she straightened and wiped her mouth on the tail of her shirt. "I'll put the word out that you ain't to be bothered. Merle will back me or I'll put a bolt in his ass. Hell, he'll do it just to piss the rest of these assholes off." He stomped off, the crossbow swaying against his broad back, and didn't look back to see if she was following.

She waited a few beats before trailing after him, torn between the urge to flee and the urge to sit down in the dirt and weep. Instead, she attached herself to his heels and followed him back to the cellar. He jerked the door open and motioned for her to go inside. As she slipped past him, she glanced up and her gaze caught on those unfathomable blue eyes. "What's your name?" She mumbled, stopping just long enough to see if he would answer.

"Daryl," he finally returned after staring at her for an interminable moment. "Daryl Dixon. Remember what I said. You keep low and stay quiet. I'll come for you as soon as I get back."

"I will," she promised because that was the only thing she could do, the only choice she had left if she wanted to survive. He gave her another little nod before easing the door shut behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

His steps were soundless on the carpet of dead leaves as he ghosted through the woods in search of game. Even though his bow was held at the ready, his mind was anywhere but on his hunting. The woman. That damnable woman the governor saddled him with for no other reason than to keep him under his thumb.

Daryl stopped and lined up a shot on a squirrel scampering down a nearby tree trunk. The bolt flew wide, adding to his aggravation and the length of time he would have to spend out here. "Fuck," he muttered as he watched the animal freeze and then disappear into the undergrowth. Mumbling imprecations under his breath, he followed it so that he could retrieve his arrow.

How the hell was he supposed to keep his hide intact, much less keep the woman in one piece? Merle wouldn't be of any help. That fucker liked to talk a big game but he was never there when Daryl needed him. He spotted lime green feathers sticking out of a bedraggled bush and scooped it up. A sudden bark of laughter pulled his head around, further darkening his mood when he caught a glimpse of Joe and his boys. Lou and Len smirked as they squared off, leaving Daryl with his back to a tree and his bow empty.

"Well, well, well. If it ain't little Dixon," Joe drawled as he lazily crossed his arms and shared an amused glance with the others. "Thought you were supposed to be planning the next run, boy, instead of running around out here. The Governor ain't gonna be happy that you disobeyed orders. Tell you what though. You hand over that crossbow and I'll forget that we saw you."

"Ain't handing over nothing," Daryl bit out. "Governor knows already so you ain't got shit to tell. The run's been handled. You boys are going so best see Martinez about where we're headed."

The three of them looked thunderous but Joe managed a smirk. "Heard you got a nice little piece out of the last batch we brought in, Dixon. Make sure you keep it in line or somebody might have to pay her a visit. That would be a real shame, wouldn't it?"

His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on his bow. He managed to bite his tongue, steely eyes clashing with Len's as the three headed back toward Respite. They couldn't touch him, not right now but if he slipped, it wouldn't be him they went for. It would be her. Dammit but he hoped Merle had gotten her out of the pen like he was supposed to. With renewed determination, Daryl veered off the trail he'd been following. He needed to find meat and get his ass back to camp. He needed to make sure that she was all right. He needed to make sure his brother had come through for once.

The room was small and neat and claustrophobic with the big man hovering in the door. He'd come for her just as the light faded to pale gold outside, boldly looking her up and down as she made her way toward him.

"Look at you, darlin," he rumbled. "Ain't as big as a minute, little mouse. Betcha my baby brother almost busted a nut when he saw you." Carol didn't quite know how to respond so she said nothing and gave him a thin-lipped smile instead. "Yep, Darylina won't have a fucking clue what to do with you."

"What do you mean?" Carol asked in a curious whisper. The man's presence confused her. "Daryl said he'd come back for me. Where is he?"

Merle Dixon sized her up again and let out a snort of laughter. "Let's just say you ain't the typical handout the governor usually gives, sweetheart. Daryl, he likes to keep things simple and with you, things are anything but. That's gonna make the boy nervous. He don't do too well with nerves, my little brother."

A previously undiscovered spark of defiance made her tilt her chin and meet his pale gaze head on. "I didn't ask for this either and I've already told him that I won't be the reason he stays here. If he wants to go, then he should go. I can look out for myself."

His fingers banded around her wrist in a grip that was almost painful. She could feel the flesh bruising but made no effort to move away. "You listen to me," he hissed under his breath. "Daryl is the only family I've got left in the world, my only flesh and blood. He's always been the sweet one but if he's backed into a corner, he'll fight. It's the Dixon in him." His face twisted with some emotion but all too soon, the mask was back in place. "I do what I can to keep these assholes off him but the Governor's changed the game. But we've got to play the hand we're dealt, don't we?"

"I don't understand."

Merle shot her a disgusted look before cupping her elbow and pulling her along with him as he headed for a low slung building across the camp. "You don't know much, do you, mouse?" He opened the fourth door on the left and motioned her inside. "Did he tell you that he's been wanting to leave but I put it off?" Merle took note of her wince and nodded. "He's been trying to get out but it ain't the right time. The fool can't let it go. He hopes, Daryl does, and it'll get him killed." He made a feeble gesture in her direction. "I ain't gonna let that happen, gal. The Governor thinks he's got a noose around my brother's neck with you but he's underestimated what I'll do to protect my brother."

"You could let me go," Carol offered hesitantly. "Get me outside the walls and send me on my way. Then I can't be used against him."

His laughter was deep and rich, pulling an unwilling smile from her as he wiped his eyes with the back of one rough hand. "Hell and fire but you're a feisty thing. Don't look like you'd say boo to a fucking goose but that ain't right. You think you could make it five minutes out there on your own? The biters would have you before dark."

Carol straightened to her full height, the unforeseen iron in her stance taking the big redneck by surprise. "My daddy taught me to shoot. I used to hunt with him when I was a girl. I can protect myself if I need to. Get me a gun or a knife if that would be easier. I'll take off and you won't have to worry about me being used against your brother."

"What kind of guns did your daddy get you, little gal? Remember that pop guns don't count."

Her glare made him chuckle again but she shoved her annoyance aside in order to answer. "Not that it matters but I've used a Marlin 30/30 and a Mossberg 20 gauge. I'm a decent shot with pistols too. It's been a while since I've done any shooting though."

Again, she'd managed to surprise him. Merle rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he studied her. "Daryl should be back before dark. You stay here and keep the door locked. Don't say nothing to Daryl just yet. I need to work some things out. We'll talk."

Carol watched him go and clicked the lock behind him. Then she sat down on the edge of the messy bed and covered her eyes. She found it difficult to believe in God anymore but still whispered a prayer. Daryl Dixon wasn't the only one who tried to hold on to hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl made it back just as the sun tipped over the horizon, leaving behind long, thin shadows and purple tipped clouds. He carried a brace of squirrels over his shoulder and three rabbits by their back legs. Stopping at the dining hall to drop off the meat, he saw Phillip Blake watching him with a barely there smirk and a knowing look. It took every ounce of self restraint Daryl could muster to keep from putting a bolt in the fucker's ass.

Turning on his heel, he headed for the barracks to check on the woman. If Merle had kept his word, and who knew if he had, then Carol was waiting in his room. There wasn't much in the way of safety to be found in Respite but anything was better than leaving her in the pen. Had he been thinking clearly before going hunting, he would have taken her there himself. Fuck but there had to be some way out of this.

He was halfway there when his big brother fell in step with him, blue eyes weighing and measuring. "We got a problem, brother."

"I figured that out on my own," Daryl returned morosely. "Joe and his boys are trying to start shit."

Merle side eyed him and gave a terse head shake by way of reply. "I'm not talking about those douche bags, numb nuts. I'm talking about the Governor. That woman…there's gonna be trouble. You mark my words."

"I know."

Merle grunted and then out of the blue, gave a little laugh. "The mouse…Carol…she's got a plan. The asshole won't see it coming."

In spite of the bad feeling that statement gave him, Daryl managed a twisted smile. "What? She gonna stab somebody with a nail file or something?"

"Or something," Merle repeated with barely concealed humor. "She wants me to take her out and cut her loose. Seems to think she can survive on her own. Might be something to think about. You know, just to have another card to play when the time comes."

Daryl stopped and stared at his brother in disbelief. "Where is she now?" He demanded.

"Right where you told me to put her," Merle walked on, leaving Daryl no choice but to follow. "That reminds me. Blake sent word that you two will be eating with him tonight. Better get a move on, Daryl. You don't want to be late for this party."

His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he caught sight of the trio on his way back to the dining hall with Carol in tow. Lou was the first to see them, his gaze flickering back and forth in a feeble attempt to see without being seen. Look. Glance away. Look again. The damned fool might as well hold up a sign saying, "HERE I AM!'

Len's dark eyes burned with barely repressed fury. He was a man used to getting his due and when denied that, nursed a grudge to the bitter end. Daryl felt cool fingers wind around his wrist and her nails bit into tender flesh. She sidled closer until she was flush against his back and Len's mouth quirked up at her reaction. He swelled up like a tick gorged on blood and took a swaggering step in their direction. Joe, stone faced and somber, held him back and whispered urgently. Len shrugged and pulled his arm free before settling back into his usual slouch.

Daryl made a snap decision and turned Carol into a loose embrace, ignoring the way her eyes widened. "Play along," he muttered as he slid a hand around the back of her neck and into her hair line. His thumb traced idle circles along her jaw, tilting her face up to his. Her shocked gasp was swallowed up when his mouth covered hers.

It was a slow drug that oozed through her veins like cold honey and woke her up. His lips were soft and feather light on hers, teasing and tasting by turns. She angled her head, moaning as his fingers slipped through her hair and then cupped her cheek. A shy little tongue came out to play, tentative and unsure as it tagged his and then retreated. His followed, supped at the sensitive seam before darting inside. Her arms banded his waist, hands splayed on the small of his back, urging him closer. The approving sounds she made when he obliged shot straight through him.

It was Merle's mocking applause that pulled them apart but Daryl didn't go far. His hand stayed on the back of her neck and he didn't take his eyes off her. "Tell them," he ordered in a gruff undertone. "Tell em now."

To his surprise, she straightened and tilted her chin proudly. A winsome little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and he couldn't help but notice that the right went just a bit higher than the left. "I'm yours," she raised her voice until it carried across the clearing, garnering the attention of those making their way to dinner. "Just yours." A slender blade blossomed in her hand, its edge glittering menacingly in the waning light. "Nobody touches me but you."

It was a reckless but effective display. Daryl looked up to see Phillip Blake wearing a satisfied expression. The man inclined his head regally before heading into the communal dining room with Joe and his buddies hot on his heels.

"You went through my stuff," Daryl observed softly and gestured toward the knife she held open and ready at her side. .

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," she answered wryly as she flipped the blade closed and dropped it into his outstretched palm.

"I'll get you a better one. Something that'll make em think twice. We're gonna go along until we can get the fuck out of here and then we'll start over. Okay?"

Carol nodded her agreement but inside, her stomach was in knots. "Okay," she repeated.


	4. Chapter 4

"So what are y'all gonna do for an encore? Bump uglies on the big man's stage while the whole town looks on?"

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl barked, scrubbing a hand though his hair. "Quit it with that shit." His cheeks were stained crimson but they weren't nearly as hot as the aggravated look he gave his brother.

"Or what?" Merle jeered, folding his arms across his chest as he looked from one to the other. "Gonna kick my ass, baby brother? Maybe run around in circles, pissing on trees and thinking you're marking what's yours? You ain't done nothing but put a target on your back, yours and hers. They'll be gunning for you both now. Better hope she's a good as she pretends to be with that knife. Either that or you're gonna have to stick to her like a shadow."

Carol straightened her back, her chin tilted defiantly. "Don't worry about me. Like I told you before, get me outside the gates and I can take care of myself."

Daryl's face darkened. "You wouldn't make it five miles and being given to Joe and his boys would be the least of your worries when they brought you back. Didn't you listen to a damned thing I told you?"

"I thought…"

"Don't. You don't know these people, what they'll do or how far they'll go. Killing you would be getting off easy."

She squared off with him, her damned chin jerked so high she seemed to be looking down her nose even though she was the shorter by a head. It was a neat trick and he almost asked how she managed it. "It doesn't matter," she insisted stubbornly. "I won't stay here if I'm going to be used against you, like a noose around your neck. I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to be a burden and I'm not about to start now."

Stepping closer, Daryl leveled a finger, poking her in the chest to emphasize his point. "You ain't gonna be a burden or a noose or anything else of the kind. Blake's apt to do whatever he thinks will keep him at the top of the heap. If you weren't here, he would be trying something else. So you'll stay here where it's safe. You got that?"

"You're not the boss of me," she fired back.

Lips curled into a humorless smirk as he looked her up and down. "That's where you're wrong, darlin. Inside these walls, you're mine."

It was Merle's rough laughter that broke their stalemate, two shocked gazes cutting toward him as the man slapped his knee and chuckled. "Look at the sparks fly! Damn me but you two are either gonna fuck or kill each other before long. I don't even care which one as long as I get to watch."

"Out," Daryl thundered, not noticing the glare Carol gave his brother or the rude gesture she made when she was sure he couldn't see. That endeared her to Merle almost as much as her saying she wouldn't be used against Daryl.

"I'm going so you can tuck your claws in, little wildcat. Save em for when you need em. Same goes for you, brother. Don't worry so much about the little fish when you know there's a shark swimming out past the shallows." With that Merle left, still shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

Carol rubbed her hands on her thighs and chanced a look at the silent man staring after his brother, absently fingering his chin. Those cool blue eyes came back to her, narrowed and assessing, and she felt her stomach flutter in response.

"So what happens now?"

He chewed on his lower lip, and then surprised her by stepping closer and taking her arm. "What happens now is that you're gonna stop with the lone wolf bullshit. We're stuck, you and me and maybe that dumb fuck brother of mine."

She tried to pull away but winced as his fingers tightened on her wrist. "So what happens now?" She asked again in a harder tone. She refused to let him see how he affected her. His eyes widened as she turned into him, his hold somehow intimate as their arms twined together between their bodies. Her gaze flicked to his mouth and then back up. The ruddy color that filled his cheeks almost made her smile. Almost.

"We play along," he rasped, bending his head until their noses touched. "Convince them that we're staying, that Merle and me are just another pair of soldiers, and that you are exactly what Blake meant for you to be…mine."

His words sent a shockwave spiraling through her, fear and curiosity and anger blending and melding until it knotted her stomach. Her head canted, lids falling to half-mast as she pushed up on her toes until there was but a sliver of space between them. He made as if to pull back but stopped when she shook her head. "I won't bite, I promise. Not until you ask me."

Much to her surprise, one corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "Stop," he ordered gruffly.

She sauntered off, wearing a little smirk of her own. "I'll need something to wear to dinner, one of your shirts if you have a spare. Unless you've decided to go with Merle's plan, that is."

His cheeks burned anew, causing her smile to widen. "Stop," he echoed and then gestured toward the dresser in the corner of the room. "Ain't much but you can take whatever you want. I'll come get you when it's time to head to the dining hall."

Carol waited until he'd left and the lock clicked before she opened a drawer and pulled out a worn gray t-shirt and striped button down. "I'll be here," she murmured to the empty room.


	5. Chapter 5

_"That's what it feels like when you touch me. Like millions of tiny universes being born and then dying in the space between your finger and my skin."―Iain Thomas_

Phillip Blake's pale blue eyes were glacial as he studied the pair taking the only empty seats left at the table. Dixon's expression gave nothing away as usual but the tiny woman following…her eyes were windows to her every thought. They darted around the room, missing nothing, before running head on into his. Like a switch being flipped, she became a different woman, edging her chair closer to Dixon's and giving him a timid little smile when he shot her a questioning look.

"You alright?" He muttered in a gruff undertone.

She laid her hand on his arm and then nodded. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it? Hot food, running water, lights. I didn't think I'd ever see these things again."

Daryl grunted and turned his attention to his plate, shoveling food into his mouth like he'd never see another meal. Carol picked up her fork and ate a few bites before seemingly screwing up her courage to look around again. Her gaze collided with Blake's once more.

"So, Carol, is it? How are you settling in?"

Daryl lifted his head, still chewing but his eyes narrowed on the man at the head of the table who was now wearing a pleasant smirk. Carol's fingers found their way back to his arm and he forced himself to not flinch at the unexpected contact. "I'm still a little at a loss, sir. Like I told Daryl, this is going to take some getting used to, living in a community again after being out there for so long. I hope everyone will be patient with me until I learn the ropes."

"I'm sure you'll find your place soon enough, my dear," Blake murmured. "Everyone does, given enough time and the proper motivation. I thought you would do well in the kitchen or possibly the clinic. Dr. S is always in need of a capable set of hands."

"Sure," Carol glanced at Daryl as she answered. "That sounds great. When do I start."

Blake steepled his fingers and then took a sip from his glass, ice tinkling musically as he tilted it to his lips. "In the morning. You'll need something to keep you busy while Daryl's out on a run. Dixon, stop by after dinner so that we can go over a few things."

His muscles flexed under her fingers and turned to stone. He opened his mouth but looked quickly in her direction as she dug her nails into his bicep. "I'll be there just as soon as I take Carol back to the barracks."

"That's okay," she quickly chimed in. "You have things to do. I'll just go introduce myself to Dr. S and find out what time he wants me tomorrow. After that, I'll get Merle to escort me back to our room so you don't have to worry." She rubbed his arm in a wobbly circle that ended with her fingers somehow wrapped around his. "He can keep me company until you get back."

Carol bit back a sigh of relief when he nodded his agreement even though his eyes promised all sorts of retribution. She felt almost giddy as she squeezed his fingers before letting them go so that she could finish her dinner. It was most unladylike how quickly she bolted down the last few bites before climbing to her feet with her empty plate in hand. Once again, he made as if to speak and once again, she headed him off. With her free hand, she brushed a few long strands off his forehead and dropped a gentle kiss there before heading toward the kitchen. She could feel his eyes on her the whole way.

Daryl watched her go, the warmth of her lips lingering on his skin like a brand.

"Good to see that my gift is working out so well," Blake's smug observation burst his reverie like a soap bubble. "But I do think there's more to that lady than meets the eye."

The chill that statement sent up his spine made the spot her lips touched burn that much hotter. Fuck it all. Fuck Carol for not fading into the background like he hoped she would, despite their little show in the courtyard. Fuck Merle for keeping him here in the first place. Fuck Phillip Blake for being a sly son of a bitch.

"Yeah, the gift is working out just fine," Daryl rasped. "But she's mine now so best if that's remembered. I don't share what's mine. Ain't about to start now."

Blake laughed and clapped his hands as if that was exactly what he'd been waiting to hear. "Good," the man purred. "That's good to hear. Now, let's talk about the supply run for tomorrow. I want you to lead it. Joe and his boys will go with you. Take Martinez along. He knows the terrain."

"What are we looking for? Ammo? More guns?"

The Governor rubbed his chin as he studied Daryl. A full minute passed before he answered. "It's a Big Spot that doesn't look like it's been touched. Should be a little bit of everything in there if we're right about it. Clean it out. Take anything that isn't nailed down. Hell, take the nails too. We can always find a use for them."

Daryl nodded, sneaking a look across the room where Carol had introduced herself to the doctor and was listening raptly to whatever the man was saying. "Merle can stay here," Blake interjected. When Daryl swung around to face him, the man smiled and waved a hand in her general direction. "He'll keep an eye on her for now. You might want to find her something more than that pig sticker she was playing with earlier though. Not even Merle can be everywhere all the time."

The threat was subtle but definitely there. Fall in and all would be forgiven. Put a toe over the line and suffer the consequences. How the hell was he going to get them, get her, out of Respite in one piece? Daryl kept his hands at his sides with effort even though he wanted to put his fist through a wall. "We'll leave at sun up," he offered instead.

"That's good," the Governor drawled. "That's perfect."


	6. Chapter 6

_"Silence fell between them, as tangible as the dark tree shadows that fell across their laps and that now seemed to rest upon them as heavily as though they possessed a measurable weight of their own." ― Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time_

The sound of the door opening was as loud as a gunshot in the cool dark enveloping the room. He was framed in the doorway, nothing but form and shadow that seemed to fill up the small space. The lock clicked as he eased it shut and propped his crossbow beside it.

"You still up?"

Carol turned over and then sat up, running a hand tiredly through her hair. "Yes. Sorry about the bed. I didn't know when you'd be back."

He waved her words away as he toed off his boots and rolled his shoulders to loosen taut muscles. "Merle left you here alone," he stated rather than asked. When she pulled a knife out from under the pillow, he snorted softly. "Thought he was gonna stick around until I got back."

"I don't need a babysitter, Daryl. I can take care of myself."

Amusement vanished from him as quickly as it appeared. He swore under his breath and pinned her with a dead eye stare. "The last group brought in before yours had a pair of sisters, the youngest not more than eighteen. Lou, Len, and Joe and a couple of the other boys found em. Usual practice is to lay back and watch until you know their patterns and then go in when they're not expecting it. This group was stupid, dumb as a post stupid. It's a wonder they lasted as long as they did. Joe ordered em to kill the men and take their supplies. The girls," he shook his head, so lost in the memory he didn't notice that she scooted closer, one hand rising to cover her mouth. "They were like wolves stalking a herd, the way they cut those girls off from the rest of their people. Their daddy died and their brother and the youngest girl's boyfriend. She screamed when they cut his throat. Len slapped her to shut her up. Knocked her ass out cold."

Carol perched on the edge of the bed, her fingers knotted together to keep herself from reaching out to him. He looked so lost, slump-shouldered and tired to the bone. She longed to comfort him, to say something that would make him smile, but nothing came to mind. "What?" She stopped, took a deep breath, and then forced herself to continue. "Then what happened?"

He looked up, lips twisted in a faux smile as he met her gaze. "You know," he said. "You don't need me to spell it out for you."

"God," Carol breathed. "How long did they last?"

"The oldest, Maggie, she made out the longest. She was tough, Tore Randall's neck out before they put her down. He was the one that killed her sister, Beth. It was bad business, what happened to that girl. They'd do the same thing to you if they got the chance. It's why I keep telling ya not to wander off on your own."

Carol nodded numbly, her mind sorting through all the horror stories she'd seen and heard since the world went to hell. Her group had been luckier than they realized. They'd been on the road four months before running afoul of the scavengers from Respite. Unbidden, visions of Lily's tear stained face popped into her head. "What about Lily? Is she okay?"

He shrugged, choosing to go to the closet for extra blankets rather than answer. Daryl fashioned a thin pallet in the corner and then retrieved a pillow from the bed. His back protested the hardness of the floor when he stretched out and hooked an arm under his head. He stared at the ceiling, willing her to let the conversation die and go back to bed.

"She's dead, isn't she?" When he closed his eyes and turned his cheek into the pillow, it told her all she needed to know. Tears traced burning lines down her face as she curled up on the bed and drew up the covers. Lily was dead. Dead and gone and there was nothing she could do to change it. A hard, cold knot of fear pulled tight in her belly and sent tremors racing through her. Carol tucked herself into a ball, the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and yet she shivered. It could have been her. God help her but it could have her.

"What the fuck? His voice rumbled out of the dark, rough and ragged. "Just go to sleep, dammit. What's wrong with you."

She tried, oh how she tried, but the trembling wouldn't stop. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore so she left the bed, dragging her blankets with her, and found a place next to him on the floor. He started back, blue eyes wide when he saw what she was about, and raised up on elbow. "I can't...I'm sorry but I don't want to be alone. I can't be alone. I won't bother you, I promise. Just let me stay here."

"Go to sleep," he repeated and settled back down, one arm lifted to cover his eyes. "It'll be morning soon enough."

Relief flooded through her, replacing fear with something that resembled hope. It was ridiculous that she should feel such a thing, given what they faced, but she took her cues from him. She folded herself up into a ball and allowed herself to slip into slumber. Whatever came, she would deal with it. That was the only choice she had.

* * *

The morning was old when she opened her eyes, warm and languid and better rested than she'd been since before the Turn. He'd wrapped himself around her in the night...his face hidden the curve of her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist, his legs bent into the curl of hers. A tremulous smile blossomed before she reined it in; closing her eyes like a child in a vain attempt to prolong the moment. He nuzzled closer, sighing contentedly as their bodies aligned, her back to his front.

It was foolish to want to stay secluded in their own little world. Foolish and reckless. She knew she ought to move away, fortify her defenses, and figure out a way to get them out of Respite. She knew what she should do, but she was foolish, maybe even mad. As mad as the world around them. He mumbled in his sleep, tightened his arms around her and brought her closer still. So Carol gave in to what she wanted to do instead of doing what she should, and closed her eyes against the dawn.


	7. Chapter 7

Trigger warning: this chapter contains some small references to domestic violence and attempted sexual assault. It's not much but it is there…so consider yourself warned.

_"No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path." ― Gautama Buddha, Sayings Of Buddha_

"Hey, little brother."

Pausing in the middle of Respite's main street, Daryl waited until Merle drew alongside before continuing his trek to the armory. "What's up, bro?"

Merle rubbed his chin, eyes darting back and forth as he studied the buildings they passed. "Blake wants us both. They brought in a lone gun on the last sweep. The Governor thinks he's part of a group and wants to find out where they're holed up."

"Why us?" Daryl quit walking to ask the question. Merle shot him an aggravated look and refused to answer until he caught up. "Thought that's what he kept Milton around for."

A snort of laughter escaped the elder Dixon. "That pansy son of a bitch ain't no interrogator. The man wants information, not another lecture on why we need to record what happens." He absently caressed the knife hanging from his belt. "This kid don't look like much so don't worry that you're gonna break nail, Darylina. You just stay by the door and ole Merle will take care of the rest."

"So where'd they find this guy and did they make sure he was alone? Better increase the watchers on the wall for a day or two to make sure we're not surprised."

Merle nodded in approval. "They picked him up at a quick stop about five miles out. Heard there was a samurai with him but she cut her way and took off. Martinez thinks he winged her but she sliced a piece off him and took a little off the top for Neal on her way out."

"A little off the top?" Daryl repeated. "Shit! Gargulio's dead?"

"Well, he ain't wondering around without his head, now is he? Shame though. Neal was a good guy."

They detoured toward the main hall, Daryl bringing up the rear as he pondered the Governor's strange request. "What about Carol? He questioned. "She still over at the clinic with Dr. S?"

This time it was Merle who was brought up short. "The clinic? I thought she'd been assigned to the kitchens. Last time I saw her, she was with Karen and I know she's part of the food prep crew. Didn't you tell the mouse to lay low?"

"You know I fucking did but she won't listen. Shit."

The brothers exchanged furious looks but Merle caught Daryl's arm as the younger turned on his heel. "Wait, Daryl, we gotta do what the man says. She's gonna have to watch her own ass for now. Alright? You with me?"

Slowly but surely, Daryl nodded. "Yeah, bro, I'm with you."

Merle loosened his grip on his brother's arm but motioned for him to take the lead. Following on Daryl's heels, Merle growled an oath under his breath. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing and it was going to get worse before it got better.

They came for her, all three of of them, wearing lunatic smiles as their empty eyes crawled all over her. Karen protested but Joe casually backhanded her, knocking her to the floor with blood dripping from a split lip. "Good to see you again, little lady. You'll be coming along with us now, nice and quiet so that we don't make a scene."

Carol drew herself up despite the fear twisting in her belly. Her hand wrapped around the hilt of the knuckle duster Daryl had given her that morning, the solid metal under her fingertips giving her strength. "I'm staying here." She returned stoutly. "You were told not to bother me. Leave now and I won't tell Daryl that you were here."

Their coarse laughter filled the room and then Joe's arm flashed out for a second time. The blow drove Carol to her knees, warm coppery blood filling her mouth. "Baby brother Dixon is busy playing errand boy right now, sweetheart, so he can't come running anytime soon. You're on your own." He laughed again at whatever he saw in her face. Somewhere, Karen groaned in pain and then shrieked as she was roughly pulled to her feet and dragged away by one of the others.

"Don't hurt her," Carol ordered. "It's not too late, Joe, not yet. Think about it. If you do this; if you hurt me then you'll die. You will. Trust me."

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his mannequin stare. "Look at the little indoor kitty hissing and flashing her claws. You ain't never gonna be no outdoor cat no matter how much you arch your back and swat." His fist tangled in the thin cotton of her shirt and ripped it off her back. He held her by the back of her neck and forced her to bend over the counter as his other hand unhooked her bra. It puddled under her, her breasts barely covered by the loose cloth. She whimpered as he curved himself around her, his breath hot on her neck. "Where's all that spit and fire now? I like it when they put up a fight, Carol. Don't disappoint me. You won't like it."

Carol pressed her cheek to the cool tiles, willing herself to be calm and to think. Her arms were pinned at her sides, unable to reach the knife at her belt. He cut the straps of her bra, the finely honed blade slicing through cloth and the flesh beneath it with equal ease. Crimson beads blossomed along the nick, little flickers of pain arcing along her nerves. "Last chance," she heard herself say in a hoarse whisper, but mocking laughter was her only reply. Karen's muted cries from across the kitchen goaded her into action. Her hand found the edge of a plate, clawed at it until it slid firmly into her grasp.

She swung it with everything she had just as gun shots and the muffled thump of explosives sounded outside.


	8. Chapter 8

"_Please. I didn't behave, I know. I know I'm being punished. I know. I… Oh, I deserve it. I deserve it. I've been bad. Help me now. Show me the way. Go on, tell me what to do. Tell me. Tell me. God! That's okay. Never you mind… I ain't begged you before. I ain't gonna start begging now_."~Merle Dixon

"What the fuck's all this?!" Merle sounded like he didn't know whether to be impressed or appalled by the scene before him.

Daryl followed his brother through the door, brows lifting as he saw a blood spattered man on his knees and what was left of a walker lying just a few feet away. The man's arms were duct taped to splinted wood, which was covered with bits of blood and bone. Sonofabitch had busted up the chair he was tied to and used the kindling to take the geek apart.

"Looks like we got us a regular Jackie Chan here, brother," Merle noted in his best asshole tone. He pulled his pistol out and leveled it at the kneeling man, gesturing for him to get up. "C'mon, kid, get up and we'll cut you loose. No more funny business, alright? We just wanna ask some questions is all. Nothing wrong with that."

The boy staggered to his feet, one eye swollen shut while the other watched them warily. He backed toward the upended table and rounded it carefully, looking away only to watch where he placed his feet. The Dixon brothers looked on as he picked up the only intact chair and sat it upright before dropping into it. Merle kept the pistol up while Daryl used his buck knife to slice through the tape.

"Where's Michonne?" His voice was a hoarse whisper but it demanded an answer. "Is she okay?"

Merle hitched a leg up on a nearby crate and rested his elbow on his bent knee. "That the samurai that cut up a couple of my boys? She's fine for now. Whether or not she stays that way depends on you."

Uncertainty flickered across that bruised face, one dark eye fixed on Merle's face trying to gauge the truth of that statement. "She got away," he stated rather than asked. "She made it out."

"Did she?" Merle returned, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "That's news to me. Hell, we might as well surrender then if we can't even hold on to one little gal that likes to wave around a pig sticker." Merle turned the gun over and over, as if admiring it before resting it gently on his thigh. "That little bird is caged up nice and tight, boy, and singing a real pretty tune. The thing is, we want to make sure what she's saying matches up with what you say. If it does, good. If not, well…hoss here ain't the only new friend you'll be making."

They could see the gears grinding in his mind as the boy tried to work out what was true and what was bullshit. To Daryl's surprise, he called Merle's bluff. "I don't believe you," he said quietly. "She made it out. You don't know a thing."

All signs of good humor fell away as Merle straightened, his expression almost as cold as his glacial blue eyes. "I know you've got a group, boy, and I know you're holed up close by. Can't be no more than twenty miles out. Too dangerous to go much beyond that, just the two of you. You and your Nubian Queen didn't just wander across out paths, oh no. You're stockpiling, scouting, reinforcing. The question is where." He flinched but still refused to answer, his good eye widening as Merle edged closer and laid a hand familiarly on his arm. "One little detail. That's all I need. Just one. Where's your camp?"

Unsure of what prompted him to move, Daryl shouldered Merle aside and met the man's look head on. "We want out," he hissed under his breath. "We can help you but only if you help us. Tell us where they are and we'll take you with us when we go." He saw the man's eye flick back and forth, weighing his options. He had no reason to trust them, not really. All Daryl could do was wait and hope that Merle didn't do something stupid, like knocking him or their new friend on their asses.

"How many walkers have you killed?" The rasped question was not what they expected. The man, bloody and exhausted, firmed his jaw, clearly signaling his intent not to say another word until he heard their answer.

"More than I can count," Daryl admitted honestly. "It's what you hafta do now. That's just how it is."

The man swallowed and then nodded. "How many people have you killed?" He looked at Merle this time, trying to see if the elder brother would show the same good will.

"Sixteen at last count," Merle finally anted up. He smirked and gestured casually with the barrel of his gun. "Most of em saw me coming, a few didn't. Hell, we've all got blood on our hands these days. That's life."

Rubbing his arms where the tape had been wound tightest, the boy swallowed and then nodded his head. "I'm Glenn," he stated. "I just need to know one last thing." He looked from one to the other, letting out a breath as he did so. "Why?"

Before they could answer, the room around them exploded in a hail of bullets while the muffled thuds of explosions was heard outside.

* * *

Joe reeled back, blood gushing from a jagged cut on the side of his face. His wordless howls of pain almost drowned out the chaos erupting outside. He raised a hand to his cheek, fingers crimson when he lowered them.

Lou and Len froze, eyes rounded as they looked on in horror at the tableau before them. His face was gruesome to behold, blood running in rivulets over the straining cords of his throat. Muscles glistened in the gore, a white flash of bone peaking through where the plate cut along his jawline. "Fuck," one of the men breathed. "She done fucked him up good. Holy shit!"

Carol let the words slip by, her attention focused solely on the bastard whose blood gloved her hand and the rough blade she still held out in front of her. "You're gonna die for this, bitch," he growled and then spit out a thick wad of blood and phlegm. "I'm gonna make you beg me to end it before I'm done."

She backed away slowly, the shard held low and ready in a blood and sweat slicked hand. It never occurred to her to arm herself with the knife at her belt. Carol knew taking her eyes off him would probably be the last mistake she ever made. "Let me go," she somehow found the strength to force the words out. "Somebody's attacking the town, don't you see? If we don't go, we'll die. All of us."

He moved like a ghost, closing the distance between them in three rapid steps. "You're right about…." He cut off, a thick fresh stream of blood and spit leaking from the corner of his mouth, his breath hot on her face as he shuddered. The piece of heavy stoneware slipped deeper, nicking veins and arteries as the she put her weight behind the thrust; made her scream as it broke in to and buried itself in her palm…the other end lodged in Joe's neck.

Carol pushed the body off her and fell back against the table, chest heaving as she gulped in greedy breaths. Pain flared in throbbing waves in her hand as she finally recalled her knife and yanked it free. Lou and Len were nowhere to be seen as she limped across the kitchen to where Karen lay, staring sightless at the ceiling. Tears burned and bile scorched the back of her throat but she fought it back, refusing to give in until she knew she was safe.

Somewhere, gunshots sounded like thunder and the ground quaked with the whomp-chuff of explosives going off. "Gotta go," she whispered through chattering teeth. "Gotta go, Carol. Can't stop now. Go on. Move. Find Daryl."


	9. a hell by any other name

_"Look, you're not who you were and neither am I. I don't know if I believe in God anymore or heaven, but if I'm going to hell, I'm making damn sure I'm holding it off as long as I can."~ Carol Peletier_

_Why?_

Why what? Why kill? Why stay? Why take orders from a man who stood back and let hell be unleashed on a whim? For survival. For the chance to keep breathing one more day. For a life long habit of following Merle around like a dog brought to heel and being too much of a pussy to just cut bait and go. The words tangled up in his head, wound tight, and settled like a stone. _Why? _What the hell did it matter and why, all of the sudden, did the his lack of an answer bother him so much.

Merle, it seemed, had no such problem. "Fuck, boy, ain't you figured it out yet? In this world, you kill or you die or you die and you kill. They ain't nothing no more true than that. Not anymore."

Shots rang out, the floor shaking as explosions thundered in the distance. The wall cracked and shifted, acrid scents of smoke and gunpowder mixing together in a bitter cocktail. Merle reacted first, ducking down with his hands covering his head. Daryl moved a little slower but managed to find cover behind the overturned table. But after the initial burst of gunfire, it became ominously silent.

Glenn bent at the waist, gagging and gasping as he fought through waves of nausea rolling through him. The two men were now wearing halos and he smelled a strange mix of burning hair and hot metal. His head pounded in time with his heartbeat.

The quiet one, he hadn't caught a name, looked concerned, turning to the other as he barked out a question. The nimbus of light seesawed around him as he moved, the wings on his vest seeming to glow against the dark leather. Wings. Halo. A wheezing laugh escaped Glenn, making his head thump even more. God, he wanted to lay down.

"Shit, this asshole's busted up," Merle hissed a reply to his brother's unheard question. "I say we get the hell out of Dodge while the getting's good, brother. Won't never be a better time than now."

Daryl's knuckles were white from his tight grip on his bow as he looked from his brother to the half-collapsed man on the floor. "We can't leave him," he argued. "He ain't in no shape to make it out on his own. Besides, without him, we ain't likely to find his group. Hell, they gotta know what's what or we'd have taken em already." He slipped the strap over his head and motioned for Merle to help him. "Get him up and let's go get Carol then we can get outta here."

"Go get Carol," Merle huffed out a laugh as he levered Glenn to his feet. "I'm thinking little brother thinks he's some sort of hero. Gonna save the girl and the day while he's at it."

"You best shut the fuck up."

"Or what?" Merle scoffed. "What're you gonna do, huh? I'll tell you what. Not a damn thing. I swear, boy, the little mouse has a bigger set of balls than you."

It was Glenn who broke the stalemate, groaning in pain as he shrugged off their arms and staggered toward the door. "You guys can stay here if you want. I'm going. Now."

"Pussy," Merle grunted as he followed Glenn toward the door.

Daryl glared at his back but fell in step behind. "Fucking prick."

* * *

Carol ran out into chaos, people screaming and looking back over their shoulders as they hurried away from the plumes of smoke rising from the far wall. Her first instinct was to join the stream of bodies but instead, she brandished her knife and headed toward the sounds of fighting. He would be there. She knew it.

Respite was anything but what its name suggested. Men, armed to the teeth, fanned out through the camp, herding people away from danger. _Stay together. Fucking listen! Follow the plan. _What plan, Carol couldn't help but wonder as she ghosted at the edges a group of stragglers. They were panicked and despite their impressive weaponry, nobody seemed to be taking charge. Where was Merle? Where was Phillip Blake? Where was Daryl?

She rounded a corner and had to stifle a scream as she ran head on into a chain link fence teeming with walkers. The vile creatures swarmed, the scent of their rotting flesh and black blood suffocating her as they pushed and pawed the barrier. Carol backed away, covering her mouth and nose with her hand, her breath hitching in her throat. "God, please," she mumbled. "Please." She whirled away, forgetting any attempts at stealth as she darted back the way she'd come.

"Carol," she heard him before she saw him. He was in the middle of the street, him and Merle supporting another man between them. "Carol!"

"Daryl," she started toward him, uncaring that others were beginning to take notice. All she saw was him. How he shoved the man into Merle and came toward her at a run. How his mouth curved up into a relieved smile. How his arms engulfed her and pulled her close, his breath sounding like he'd run for miles rather than the few yards it took to get to her.

"God," he rasped, rocking her back and forth, one hand splayed on the back of her head, the other in the small of her back. "Oh God."

She didn't care how strange his reaction was or that tears were rolling unchecked down her cheeks. She didn't notice her own hands cupping his cheeks, or how she urged him to come back and drew him down until their foreheads touched. But she did notice the way Daryl stiffened in her arms when Merle's irate shout cut through the silence.

"Hate to break up such a beautiful moment but we need to go. So unless you're planning to share the love, brother, you and the mouse need to get a move on."


	10. take it from me

_"You want blood, I get it. Take it from me, man. Come on."~Daryl Dixon _

But she did notice the way Daryl stiffened in her arms when Merle's irate shout cut through the silence.

"Hate to break up such a beautiful moment but we need to go. So unless you're planning to share the love, brother, you and the mouse need to get a move on."

"He's right," she whispered urgently. "We need to get out of here."

Daryl bit back the automatic urge to argue but she had a point. Ignoring Merle's continuous stream of smart ass comments, he laced his fingers through Carol's and took off at a fast walk, trailing after his brother and the kid. She brought him up short though, tugging her hand free and crossing her arms across her chest. Her bare chest. Her. Bare. Chest. Daryl blinked once and then again, his mouth hanging open as he took her in.

"Better get the lead out, sugar tits," Merle crowed, his eyes crawling over every visible inch of pale skin. "This place is going to hell in a hand basket."

"You best shut the hell up, Merle," Daryl growled behind her, and something draped over her shoulders. She thrust her arms through the holes and crossed her arms to hold the front flaps of the vest together. "What are you doing, Carol, running around here like that? Have you lost your damned mind?"

"Joe…him and his boys found me. They…uh…they killed Karen. He tried to.." Her voice trailed off, tears spiking her lashes and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. She flinched when he stepped in close, his jaw tight, his fingers gentle on her chin as he nudged her gaze up to meet his.

"Did he hurt you?" His tone was curiously gentle despite his dark expression.

Carol shook her head, blue eyes wary as she pulled his vest more tightly about her. "He didn't. Well he would have but I…I hit him and then…I think he's dead. I think I killed him."

"Chat later, Darylina," Merle barked from up ahead. "We gotta move, son. Ain't got time for this pansy shit." He laughed at the pair's beleaguered expressions.

Smoke eddied over the compound, the distant pops of gunfire sound oddly muffled. The small group stopped to take stock, heads craning as they weighed their options. "Best bet seems to be over by the clinic," Merle decided. "Area looks pretty clear. We should be able to get out through the side gate."

"Gate's guarded," Daryl voiced his disagreement. "Ain't no chance the Governor would leave it open with all this going on. There has to be a hole somewhere."

Glenn and Carol exchanged looks as the Dixons squared off, and then Carol laid a tentative hand on Daryl's arm, bringing his auguring stare to her. "The gate's our best chance," Carol whispered. "There's four of us. We should be able to get by anybody the Governor has there. We have to try." His blue eyes bore into hers, volumes spoken in a glance. "Daryl?" She questioned uncertainly.

"You stay close and don't stop for nothing, you hear me?" He waited until she nodded before turning back to Merle. "Alright, we're making for the gate. How far to your camp, Glenn?"

The kid looked from one to the other, the gears in his brain clearly grinding before he nodded to himself. "About eight miles to the south. There's a juvenile detention center close over by the county line. We cleared it."

Merle let out a low whistle and Daryl shook his head, mouthing oaths under his breath. "Martinez said that place was overrun," Merle gritted out. "You're telling me that you cleared it. You boys Army or something?"

"No," Glenn was the one wearing the uncomfortable expression now. "One of them used to be a cop before. One was a vet, the animal doctor kind. We've been together since it started though. We learned how to survive."

"What about you?" Carol asked curiously. "What did you do before this?"

Glenn shrugged like it didn't matter. "Delivered pizza. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

Gunfire barked nearby, the wind shifted bringing with it the acrid bite of spent sulfur and smoke. Voices filled in the blanks, some screaming while others seemed to be shouting instructions and orders. "We can tell stories and braid each others' hair later," Merle commented as he and Daryl swung into action, one brandishing his crossbow; the other holding a wicked knife. "If you two are done gossiping, can we please get out of here."

The fighting seemed to pick up the closer they got to the gate, clusters of armed men making it necessary to duck into alleyways and in between buildings until they could sneak past. Once they saw a lithe figure dancing amid a tangle of men, her sword an extension of her arm. Blood and bone rained down around her as she flicked the blade back and forth.

"Michonne," Glenn called excitedly, heading in her direction.

"Hold on, boy!" Merle caught his arm roughly and swung him about. "The Nubian Queen there one of your people?"

"Yeah," Glenn pushed the older man aside and darted forward again only to be dragged back by Merle once more. "I gotta go," he shouted. "They've come for me. They don't know where I am. C'mon, man! We gotta help her." He was brought up short as Daryl joined his brother to hold the young man back. "Let me go. C'mon, guys! Carol, tell them. Carol?"

Daryl whirled, eyes darting back and forth, bile burning the back of his throat when he couldn't find her. "What the fuck? Carol!" His shout rang out over the noise, pulling more than a few heads in their direction. "Where'd she go? Dammit! Carol!"

Merle caught him before he'd gone more than two steps. "Where you going, boy? We're getting out of here, remember? Looks like Junior's people decided to bust the place up, giving us a custom made diversion. We ain't gonna disappoint em. Let's go."

"I ain't leaving her," Daryl yanked free. "All I had to do was keep an eye on her! Fuck these people, Merle. They ain't no concern of mine. Carol is." He turned in an aimless circle, fingers flexing on the strap of his crossbow angled across his chest. "Carol!" He called again.

His only answer was a burst of gunfire.

She came to slowly, head aching and the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth. Carol blinked, shook her head to try to clear some of the cobwebs, and gasped when her surrounding swam into view.

Tanks lined the walls, countless eyes staring back at her. She bit back a scream when she saw the tanks filled with severed heads lining the wall. Floor to ceiling. Jaws moved on the one directly in her eye line as the walkers behind the glass reacted to her. She clamored to her feet, moving backwards until she hit the far wall. A small barred door stood adjacent to the shelves, covered with a sheet that did little to muffle the growls from within.

"Penny wants to meet you," a cold voice drawled smoothly. "What do you say we bring her out to say hello?" Phillip Blake's cold eyes raked over her, his lip quirking up at the way she curled in upon herself. He pushed the curtain aside and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. "Don't look so nervous, Carol. It's only my little girl. The light of my life. It's not too much trouble to say a simple hello surely."

The small form wavered into the room, the bag over her head making the realization even more gruesome. The chain securing her to the wall pulled taut as she rushed forward, snapping and snarling behind the thin cotton shroud.

"Now, sweetheart," Blake crooned as he removed the covering, revealing a tiny wasted face, her hair hanging in tangles about her shoulders. "That's no way to act in front of a lady." He grasped her neck where the chain and collar met and held her steady. "Carol, this is Penny, my little girl."


	11. you can end this

_"… Get him to drop his guard, and then when he's sleeping, you can end this." ~Carol Peletier_

Carol didn't know how she kept the horror from her face. The little girl, the thing writhing at the end of its leash, repulsed her. She watched as Phillip Blake smiled and ran his fingers through her tangled dark hair, the proud beam freezing in place when strands caught and then tore free leaving dark blood and ragged flesh behind. But like a switch being flipped, the smile flickered and brightened.

"Isn't she beautiful?" He questioned though his gaze didn't stray from his daughter. "She'll be eight in a few months. We're going to do it up right, aren't we, baby?"

"She is beautiful," Her voice shook despite her best efforts. "And that sounds like fun. I'll bet she's looking forward to it."

Blake's eyes fell on her like a weight, pushed her down and made it difficult to breathe. "Too bad you were in such a hurry to leave us. Too bad indeed, my dear. Merle, well let's just say I've got plans for him. And Daryl, that one's gonna learn what it means to be disloyal. I liked him. I rewarded him and he spit in my face. I won't forgive that, Carol. Disloyalty breeds anarchy and anarchy breeds chaos." His hand slid to the girl's shoulder, drawing small circles on her back despite her continued snarls. "I will not allow everything I've built here to be torn apart. Not by the Dixons. Not by you."

Keeping her eyes on the girl, she forced herself to be calm. Part of her wanted to run screaming from the room ay the realization of just how far this man had gone. Another part wished that there was a convenient plate lying close by. One well placed blade and this nightmare would be over. She fought back a shriek as his fingers, smeared with blood and hair from the girl, found her chin and forced her gaze up to his.

"Do you know why I brought you here? Do you understand the importance of what I'm trying to do?" Carol could only shake her head, trying to keep an eye on the man and on the leashed monster whose head he continued to stroke almost fondly. "We have a chance to get it all back, everything we were before, but only if we have the foresight and the willingness to do what must be done. Sacrifices must be made. It's the only way. I see that. Do you?"

"I don't…I'm sorry…I don't understand," Carol stammered. "Your men…they bring people in, take what they have, and either kill or enslave the survivors. What does any of that have to do with the way it was before."

His fingers tightened on her jaw to the point of pain, until she couldn't help but to cry out. "You're not looking deep enough. A cure. That's the only prize left that's worth winning anymore. You have to know that. That's the only remaining truth. We either beat this thing or it beats us. I refuse to let that happen. I refuse to let my family go without doing whatever I can to stop it."

"And you're close," she managed to get the words out despite the bruising hold he maintained. "You're sure?"

Blake's pale eyes burned with fervor, a madness she couldn't even attempt to comprehend. He pulled Penny closer and forced Carol's head down until she was inches from the girl's face, close enough to smell fetid blood and rotten flesh. "My daughter is all the family I have left in the world. I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Whatever it takes."

"Let me help you," she whispered in a faltering voice, reaching up to brush tendrils of matted hair away from the girl's face. Her eyes flickered toward the tanks, to a shift in the light reflecting in the glass. "Let me help Penny. Please." The Governor tilted his head, surprise evident in the suddenly narrowed gaze he turned upon her. "You said yourself that the Dixons were disloyal. I was a gift, a reward, so that means you won't let me stay with them when you catch them. Please. I was only going along because I didn't think I had a choice. But now, I can be useful. I can help take care of Penny. I always wanted a daughter. Please, sir." She stretched out a hand toward him, her expression beseeching him to believe her. To listen.

The blade whistled as it sliced through the air, neat and economical as it punched through the back of the Governor's head and exited via his eye socket. Scarlet ribbons unfurled down his cheeks as he trembled, his fingers cut to threads on the razor sharp edge when he grabbed hold in a feeble attempt to stay the sword.

Carol didn't stop to think as she dropped to her knees and snatched up the knuckle duster he wore on his belt. She took hold of the chain and held what used to be a little girl steady before tenderly putting her down. "Thanks," she huffed, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.

The woman nodded and then wiped her sword clean on the fallen Governor's shirt. "You're welcome. What say you and me get outta here and back to my people. Your rednecks and Glenn ought to have found them by now."

"Lead the way," Carol returned fervently. "I'm right behind you." She followed right on the woman's heels, the knife clutched tightly in her hands as they ghosted from one door to the next. The woman made a small detour and came back with a couple of shirts, that she handed over without a word. "Thanks," Carol echoed as she pulled one on and used the other to wipe off her hands and face. "Do you think they made it out?"

The woman shrugged and then peeked around a corner into an adjoining hallway before motioning for Carol to follow. "Looked like they were doing alright last I saw. If we're quiet, we should be able to get out the same way me and the others got in. We have a rally point a few miles out. Glenn knows where so he'll head that way. Hopefully, your boys will go along."

"Hopefully," Carol echoed.


	12. bend

_"The oak fought the wind and was broken, the willow bent when it must and survived."― Robert Jordan, The Fires of Heaven _

_They made the trip back to the juvenile detention center where Glenn and his crew were holed up in record time. Rick Grimes, the cop in charge that Merle had privately dubbed Officer Friendly, told them prior to their arrival that they would be kept separate for the time being. They would be given food and have their injuries looked at but it was still up in the air whether or not they'd be allowed to stay. _

* * *

_"Go on and have your chat," Merle waved the chorus of excuses and justifications aside. "You're looking out for your own. I get it. Just as long as we got walls and fences between us and the biters, that's all that matters.. The mouse could use some looking after but I think my baby brother's got that covered, don't ya, Daryl?" _

_"Mouse?" Rick repeated in confusion but let it lie when Glenn put a hand on his arm and shook his head. "It's safe there. It's not got much in terms of comfort but it's better than nothing." _

_The group straggled out of the woods in knots of two or three, Rick on point and a big man with a hammer bringing up the rear. The two lane was mostly deserted but Carol could see the hood of a truck peeking out of the undergrowth alongside a smaller SUV. _

_"We should be able to get everyone in," Rick announced as he waved the others in. "Tyreese, grab one of the gas cans out of the back and top off the tanks. Michonne, stay on watch until we're ready to leave. You three, there's room in the back of the truck. Find a spot and get comfortable. We'll head out in a minute."_

_Daryl's mouth opened but his brother beat him to the punch. "I'll take up a spot on the other side to make sure we got eyes in both directions. Don't need no surprises." Merle nodded toward the truck, cutting his eyes in Carol's direction. "She's done in, man. Get her settled and be ready to help if some assholes decide to crash the party." _

_Put that way, Daryl couldn't argue. He noticed how her chin tilted up during Merle's little speech and the way her spine stiffened but she didn't say a word. He led her to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate, his hand warm on her arm as she climbed up. He took the spot on the driver's side and put her in the middle, despite the sideways looks she gave him. He laid his crossbow across his knees at the ready but draped his other arm around her to keep her close. She stayed quiet but let out a deep sigh as her head listed, coming to rest on his shoulder. A few minutes later, Merle climbed in and plunked down, a rifle cradled lovingly in his arms. _

_"You sure about this?" she dimly heard Merle ask his brother. _

_"What else are we gonna do?" His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek. "It can't hurt and she needs..."_

_"I'm okay," she rasped in a hoarse voice, lifting her head to look back and forth between them. "I'm fine. We don't have to.."_

_"We do." Daryl broke in followed almost immediately by Merle's "We're going." _

_Outvoted, Carol settled back to her former position and closed her eyes as the truck roared to life. The brothers didn't speak again and Carol drifted off to the thump-thud of Daryl's heart beating steadily under her ear._

* * *

She collapsed on the bunk, head in her hands and shoulders slumped in exhaustion. God but she was tired. Carol felt like she could sleep for a week if left undisturbed. She didn't lift her head when she heard footsteps pause outside her cell nor when they sidled away and then came back, shifting from foot to foot by the door.

"C'mere," she mumbled and beckoned him forward with the tiniest flick of a finger. "It's alright." She kept her head down, eyes closed, listening as he came closer and then felt the mattress sag as he sat down close by. "You think we're safe here?"

"As safe as anywhere else, I reckon," he answered softly. "They seem like good people and they gotta trust us or they wouldn't have brought us back."

"The kids," Carol agreed. "Glenn said they were out all last winter. Only just found this place in time for the baby to be born. They thought they were gonna lose her momma. Luckily, Dale was a doctor before, retired but he still knows what he's about. They were lucky to find him."

His hand was feather light on her shoulder and she looked up, surprised to see the concern radiating back at her. "You need to be checked out," Daryl said gruffly. "Just to be sure. I can go…"

Her fingers tangling with his brought him up short. "Stay," she muttered. "Please. I'm fine. I swear. Just don't…don't leave."

"Carol," his voice had taken on a pleading tone, so unlike him that she stared before she caught herself. "You need…"

"You," she broke in. "I need you here. Please."

He couldn't speak, could find no words or action that could adequately express the effect those words had on him. Boneless. Breathless. His heart pounding in his chest like thunder. Dammit all to hell but he didn't know how much more of this he could take. She already had him so far out on a limb that he could feel the earth quivering beneath his feet. Unsure how to answer, he sought distraction.

His fingers diverted from her shoulder to the neckline of the loose cotton shirt she wore. He tugged it down, brushing a few tendrils of hair aside to better see her. Purple bruises mottled her neck and shoulders, dark and angry against her pale skin. He hissed a curse and then hooked a finger under the hem at her waist, waiting until she nodded before lifting it up to bare her back. The rough outline of a hand print across her rib cage drew another swear from him. A scratch along her side made him pause until she whispered that it was from the edge of the table Joe had pushed her into.

Carol, for her part, sat still and silent as the hunter examined every inch of her skin that could easily be reached. He was so gentle, so beautifully and achingly gentle that it brought tears to her eyes. She let her chin droop into her chest, eyes sliding shut as his light touches wandered over her back. She felt him lean into her, his forehead resting against her shoulder blade and then the softest brush of warm breath and warmer lips against her nape. Everything in her demanded that she turn to him, let him gather her in but she stilled the urge, let the seconds flow one into the other. Let those butterfly touches linger and then go where they would.

A sharp intake of breath was his only outward sign when she bent forward and pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. She eased back to her former position and didn't look around. Let him decide if he wanted to continue their dance. She let out a sigh of her own when his mouth came back and quickly found the pulse at the base of her throat. "Go ahead," she heard herself say in the softest of whispers as her head canted to the side to give him room.

It was the worst possible time for this to be happening. He knew it but pulling away was impossible. She was silk and velvet under his hands and he was almost loathe to touch her, afraid the roughness of his fingers would mar her further. The low sounds she made, almost purring, flooded through him like wildfire in his veins. Nothing escaped him, the delicate lines of her shoulder, the slope of her spine, the gentle flair of her hips.

Silvery lines blazed a trail across her lower back, jagged and puckered under his fingers. He lifted his head and bent to look, brows drawing together as he took in her scars. Blue flickered as she glanced over her shoulder, mouth a tight line. The bruises that mottled her skin made them stand out like a beacon.

"From before," she whispered. "Another life, Daryl. Somebody else's slide show." She folded in upon herself, the tower of strength she seemed until then gone in an instant. In her place was a woman consumed by everything she'd endured.

Her breath caught when his big hand bracketed her shoulder and pushed her forward, bent her over her knees, so that he could more easily reach her. His lips traced the knobs of her spine downward, then over the marks another man left behind. Laughter, light and nervous, bubbled in her throat at the sheer beauty of it. He couldn't erase those memories any more than he could take the scars from her skin but he could give her something good, something bright and real and true to overtake them. If she let him.

And God help her but she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted everything.


	13. resting

_And I won't go, I won't sleep, I can't breathe_

_Until you're resting here with me.~Dido _

And God help her but she wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted everything.

"Is this alright?" She heard him whisper, the warm tide of his breath sending a ripple of goose flesh up her back.

"Go ahead," she repeated, propping her elbows up on her bent knees, wondering what it was about her that seemed to fascinate him so. She wasn't anything special, not really. Lord knows Ed had told her often enough to make her a believer. Daryl though, he made her doubt everything she believed to be true.

He started at the nape of her neck, calloused fingers oh so gentle as they swept over her skin. The delicate flare of her shoulder blades were mapped in exquisite detail, his fingers splayed to cover every inch. Down...following the natural curve of her before ascending...slower, steady, lingering in the hollows that made her shiver or shift. It dawned on her then, his purpose, and she bit back an unwanted flash of tears. He watched her as closely as he examined her flesh...learning and memorizing and filing away. Why oh why? She'd been handed over to him like a piece of meat and instead of using her as such, he seemed to cherish every new discovery, revel in the freedom she granted to explore at his leisure.

He pushed her gently into the doubled up pillow at the head of the bed and then moved to help free her from her pants and boots. Too caught up in the spell weaving its way around them, she let him strip her bare, body and soul. "We don't gotta," he mumbled, a sweet flush that had nothing to do with what they were about to do climbing his cheeks.

"I want to," she kept her arms at her sides, open and honest, trying to show him that she was right there with him. "I...can I...will you let me?"

She reached for the tattered hem of his shirt but stopped short of touching him. Keeping their eyes locked, he toyed with the top button before letting out a breath as he popped it free. His Adam's apple bobbed as he undid first one and then the rest. He surprised her then by softly grasping her wrists and placing her hands on him, one on each side of the loose panels of his shirt. Obeying his unspoken request, she slipped it off his shoulder and down his arms, letting it fall aside, forgotten.

She saw his scars, the marks on his body that told a similar story to her own. Her voice shook as she confided, "You're beautiful." His returning snort showed quite clearly what he thought of that idea. "You are."

"Ain't never been pretty a day in my life," he tried again to deflect her praise, his shoulder shifting reflexively.

"I think you are," she sidled closer and then bent to kiss his shoulder, right above a silvery x of scar tissue. "Whether you know it or want to admit it, you can't hide the good man you are, Daryl." He shuddered under her hands, not all the reaction coming from pleasure at how good it felt to have her touch him. Somehow, without him saying a damned thing, she understood and backed off, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "I want to," she whispered as she lowered herself back down to the mattress. "Whatever you want."

He didn't answer but stretched out at her side, aligned head to toe, his face tucked into her neck. Skin-on-skin, they were but rather than passion roaring to life and filling her up with a fire that she knew would consume her; a softer flame was kindled. The kind that spoke of home, of warmth on a winter night, of smiles just for him, and arms to rest in, and his voice rough with sleep muttering her name.

"Just rest," she heard herself say. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

* * *

One week passed. Then two. Then a month. Then six.

Their group thrived behind the walls of the detention center. Judith Grimes found her way into every heart with her dimpled smiles and twinkling eyes. Lori, the girl's mother, had survived the birth but never completely regained her strength. She died about a month after they came back from Respite. Rick raged and lost himself for a time in the madness of grief. They cut him a wide berth for the most part; the others coming together for Carl and the baby. It was Michonne who brought him back.

These days, the pair could be found patrolling the outer walls, heads together as they walked. Nobody gave voice to the suspicions most harbored but it was generally accepted that it was only a matter of time. Glenn continued to act as the group's 'go to town' guy. He and Daryl went out, bringing back needed supplies and the occasional new person who had been deemed trustworthy. It wasn't until Rosita Espinosa's group was melded with theirs that Glenn tipped his hand.

He stammered and stuttered around the dark haired girl until both the Dixon brothers were calling across the courtyard in mocking tones, Merle inquiring if he needed pointers and Daryl chiming in that it was always fun to see a master at work. Rosita, for her part, told Glenn to ignore them and come help her in the garden. The boy flushed, and even managed to flip Merle the bird behind the girl's back as they walked away.

Carol sat in the sun, her head canted back and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth and the voices of her family around her. She held her position for several blissful minutes before prying her lids open and letting her gaze sweep the courtyard. She found him across the way...watching her, watching him. Those forget me not blue eyes still burned into her as much as they ever had...but as before, it was a different fire.

_Oh, I think you can keep her. There are plenty of others to go around so take this one with my compliments, my friend. Enjoy her._

She often recalled those foul words the Governor uttered on her first day in Respite. They'd filled her with terror and loathing then, until she'd seen his eyes.

Carol lifted a hand to shade her eyes to better see him. He pointed toward the woods and held up three fingers. She nodded and watched him amble off, his crossbow bouncing on his back, and couldn't help but smile.

She'd found her sanctuary in this God forsaken world thanks to a devil. Maybe there was some truth to that whole works in mysterious ways theory after all?


End file.
